


H Is For Hubris

by FakePlastikTrees



Series: Holiday ABC's 2012 [2]
Category: Smash (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 15:25:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>H Is For Hubris</p>
            </blockquote>





	H Is For Hubris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UbiquitousMixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/gifts).



Karen’s eyes are almost glassy with all the vodka swirling around in her belly and the rest still floating about in her glass as she sings her favorite part of My Man but she will not be disturbed. Not now. What would Barbra think if she stopped right now? Not that Barbra Streisand would be hanging around a late night Christmas party full of dancers and aspiring stars, but it’s the incentive, isn’t it?

People are too drunk to care and only half of the party is listening now, but Karen doesn’t care because they have a week off and this is her favorite part.

“…two or three girls has he, that he likes as well as me, but I love him…” She pauses and sips her drink, and takes a deep breath, “Oh my man, I love him so. He’ll never know…” She sings again, walking around Tom’s living room, or stage area, as its been dubbed, and Ivy rolls her eyes. So Karen sings louder. She’s drunk. She must be so drunk and she will so regret this in the morning, but she’s sure she saw one of the guys put on a dress earlier and pose for pictures. One of the few straight guys. So she’s sure something else will out-stage this future unfortunate memory.

But really, none of that matters. It’s time for the big finale and she sounds good. She’s looking good and she’s feeling good, because for the first time in a while, she can sing a song and mean at least some of what it says. Is it a sin to rub it in people’s faces that she’s got someone? Someone that makes her feel all arrogant and like what Ivy exudes so effortlessly? It really, really doesn’t matter. Karen does feel all of those things. And maybe she’s behaving like a giant douche bag lately, stealing the spotlight anyway she can get it during rehearsal and telling anyone who will listen about the most intense, mattress drilling sex she’s ever had. Constantly. On the daily.

She’s done singing along with the radio and a couple of people clap while she drains her glass and then heads for the small circle of dancers standing in a corner, chatting and laughing while Ivy stands with her back to Karen and a beer in her hand. Karen smiles the whole way there, circling Ivy’s waist with both arms and pressing a kiss to the blonde’s shoulder.

“Hey, rock star,” Ivy says, turning to indulge her girlfriend in a chaste kiss.

Karen smiles, her eyes heavy and her cheeks pink. “Hi. I want to go. Now.”

“It’s early.”

“Ivy?” Karen tries again, side-glancing the smaller woman with a look she hopes is more telling than inebriated, “I want to go.”

“Oh.” Ivy chuckles, her chest rising in one deep breath before she briefly nibbles her bottom lip and stares at Karen’s mouth in a way Karen will never get tired of seeing and then nods her head. “Okay, stay here, I’ll go get our coats.”

Watching Ivy disappear through the crowd, Karen fights through that familiar sense of entitlement she’s been feeling lately any time Ivy is around. Because she’s hers. Ivy is hers. And maybe a little bit of pride is healthy. Maybe it’s just a little chutzpah and it’s okay, because she’s happy for once.

 


End file.
